Beautalia and the beast
by skytiger859
Summary: Hungary is bookish, but beautiful and has caught the eye of many a man in her small town, none of which she want. This makes Prussia, the most looked up to man in town, furious. But when Hungary finds a huge house full of moving furniture and a huge, hairy behemoth, she discovers things about herself she never knew. (T rating for some language, suggestive scenes.)
1. Chapter 1

AN: you guys seemed to like my Italy in Oz story, so here's on of beauty and the beast! Let me know if there's another fairy tale or whatever that you'd like to see, because I'm running out of ideas!

Prologue

Once upon a time, there lived a spoiled young man. He was raised in a beautiful home and started out as a sweet child with many good friends, but as time went on,

he grew more and more rude to everyone and all his friends turned away from him. He took his frustrations out on his music, creating a new song for every tantrum. Finally, he found himself all alone in his huge house. One night, as he sat in his favorite chair daydreaming, he heard a knock at the door, almost drowned out by the rumbling of thunder and the patter of rain. As he went to answer it, his windows flashed white, and another great clap of thunder was heard. The young man opened the door and was greeted with a bow from a mysterious, soaking wet stranger, clad in a mint green robe, the hood of which covered his face.

"Good evening, my lord," said the stranger. "I am but a traveller, passing through the town, but caught in a storm. Might you have lodging for one night? I have eaten already, I am not hungry. All I ask is a place to hang my coat and to lay my head."

The man looked him up and down. "How do you make your living, traveller?" He asked.

"Ah. An excellent question. As I've been to many places, I have seen many things. One of the things I've seen is that ladies love flowers, and men who love ladies give them flowers. I travel to find new flowers, harvest and sell them. The money I use to travel and to eat. Here," the traveller paused and reached into his robe at the breast, removing a green stem with a green bud at its tip, not yet open. "This rose is one of a rare type; its scent is more prominent, it will take several years to wilt, and it is said that those who are given one will find themselves happier with their lives."

The young man had grown bored. "Go away," he said. "I'd rather not be bothered by the likes of you, and I do not believe in fairy-tales. Give your rose to some stupid lady."

The stranger straightened his posture a bit. "The value of this flower is greater than a nights lodging. Greater, even, than the value of my own life. But lesser than the value of a simple act of compassion that one person can show another. For a rose can bloom and die and it will be forgotten, but a man can live and be kind, and in memories, he never dies."

"Stop speaking in riddles and leave my home," said the young man.

The traveller placed the stem at the feet of the young man and stood tall. The young man looked up at him; had he grown taller? Looking down, he saw that the traveller was floating. The young man gasped and fell to his knees. The traveler's hood was flung back by some unseen force, and he spoke in a monstrous, growling voice that seemed to scare even the thunder. Lightning fell and flashed all about, lighting up the traveler's face. The young man gaped at him; blond, with green eyes and bushy black eyebrows.

"Hear this now," bellowed the traveler, or, as he was now revealed, the wizard. "You have had many a chance, and that was your last one. You shall see yourself as others see you!"

The young man trembled and felt a pain in his arms and legs. He looked at them. His fingers swelled, growing claws, and thick, black fur! He strained as the pain grew, accidentally biting his tongue, which immediately bled. He spat the blood out, and felt at his teeth; they were razor sharp! He convulsed as his body grew in size and as hair sprouted from places it never had before. Finally, when it was all over, he lay panting on the ground.

"Please," the young man, now a hideous monster, pleaded, "I'll let you sleep here. You can even live here if you want. Give me another chance."

The wizard looked at him, and picked the rose back up. "I will give to you what you did not give to me: compassion. Yes, I will give you one last chance. The story I told you of this rose is true. It will bloom for two years, and during the third year it will wilt. You must find someone in that time. Someone who will look past your hideous form and find a good person inside. You must show them that you have a good person inside."

"Who do I have to find? Is it someone I know?" Asked the young man.

"It can be anyone."

"This doesn't make sense. I don't understand."

The wizard got on his knees beside the young man, who seemed to be about to pass out.

"I'll make it simple. You have to love someone, and they have to love you back. Be it a friend or a lover, you must love and be loved by them by the time the last petal falls from this rose." The wizard picked the flower up and stepped over the young man. As the young man lost consciousness, the wizard placed the flower in a vase and recited an incantation. The instant he left the house, the furniture came to life. A great bed sheet slid itself under the young man and a coffee table carried him to bed. When he found himself in a state of wakefulness, a teapot and cup were carried in on a floating tray. The young man felt he should be shocked, yet was not. He refused the tea that was offered him and instead flung the cup across the room, shattering it. In a fit of rage, he stormed through his bedroom, breaking windows and ripping the wallpaper. Finally, he broke down and wept. He remembered the wizard's words, but felt that his second chance was hopeless. Who could love a monster like him?

Chapter One

Hungary woke up early, as was her habit. Snatching the books she borrowed, she made her way out the door and headed for the library. The first few minutes of her trek were silent. Her town was a quiet place, a little settlement where everyone knew everyone else's name. She lived with her friend, Switzerland, and his sister Liechtenstein. The morning was chilly, but it almost always got warmer by the time she got to the library. She was hardly a few steps into town when people started waking up. Windows opened to the rising daylight, children ran outside to begin their day's play as their parents got ready for work. Hungary loved children, and they seemed to love her, too. A knot in a shoelace was a cinch for her slender, but strong, fingers, and she told very good stories. When the baker sold her a sweet pastry, she'd always share with whoever happened to be closest. This morning, she hadn't brought any money. All the same, the children were happy to see her. She lifted a few of them and swung them high in the air, patted their heads and continued walking as they set up their jacks and jump ropes. As much as she could enjoy herself in her town, she was bored. Switzerland and Liechtenstein were good friends to her, but her own life didn't compare to the wild adventures she found in books. After smiling and saying hello to several of her neighbors, Hungary arrived at the library. Germany, the owner, greeted her at the door with a pleasant expression. (Pleasant for Germany, anyway. He didn't smile much.) Hungary returned her book and looked around on the shelves for anything she hadn't read yet. The rest of the building was quiet, but it wasn't the strained silence of a library, it was the silence of an empty room. There weren't a lot of people in the town who liked to read, thus making Hungary stand out even more. Hungary found nothing new on the shelves, and plucked out one she'd read several times before. Each time she'd read it, she found she could dive deeper into it, and had read it so thoroughly that she could almost recite the volume by heart. She brought it to Germany.

"Do you never get tired of this one?" He asked, minor amusement in his voice.

"How can I get tired of my favorite book?" She asked. "Of all the others, this one has the most adventure, the highest suspense, and the sweetest of love stories." Hungary always found herself rambling when she spoke of her favorite book.

Germany looked at the book for a while. He handed it over the counter. "Keep it," he told her.

"Are you sure?" Hungary asked, incredulous.

"I figure you might as well know," Germany said. "I'm packing up. Hardly anyone comes in here and I can't afford to keep the place up. Take it with you and enjoy."

"Thanks," Hungary said, deeply saddened. She stepped out of the library, not knowing what else to do or say. She fought back tears as she began to read while she walked. As soon as she was out of earshot, people would gossip. Seychelles and Belarus whispered to each other.

"Wonder what's possessed her," Belarus said. "Doesn't she know that real life exists outside of books?"

"If she knows, she doesn't care," answered Seychelles. "But she'll never get a man with her nose buried in a dusty old book."

Prussia strolled into town, dragging a dead buck by the antlers to the butcher while Spain and France carried dead geese and rabbits, all of which were shot by Prussia.

"All this?" Said the butcher, impressed. "You'll have to teach some of the young boys around here to hunt; this town'll certainly never go hungry as long as there's bullets in your gun."

Prussia nodded. "I know. I'm awesome."

The butcher paid him for the meat. "Come pick up the antlers later," he said. Prussia strolled away, with Spain and France in tow. Seychelles, Ukraine and Taiwan watched as they walked past.

"He's so hot," Seychelles whispered to the other two, who nodded.

"And I hear he's single. I wonder why," said Taiwan.

"Maybe he'll ask one of us out," said Ukraine.

"Prussia is the best hunter in town, and he's cute. He could have any girl in town. Why's he single?" Asked Taiwan.

Meanwhile, Prussia and the other two walked into an alley.

"Okay, Prussia," France said. "Spill. You've been acting weird today."

Prussia pulled out a cloth and began wiping his rifle. "If you must know, I plan on asking Hungary out."

"Why her?" Asked Spain. "I mean, Ukraine has the bigger boobs."

Prussia shrugged. "Nah. Hungary's prettier by a mile. She's as sexy as I am awesome."

"Think she'll go out with you?" Asked France. "She's closer to kissing that book than you."

Spain snickered and Prussia punched them both on the head. "Why wouldn't she? I'm the most looked up to guy in town. Any one of the girls here would drop to their knees for me if I so much as winked."

Spain and France looked at each other, as if they wanted to start laughing. Prussia rolled his eyes. "Yes, I meant THAT way."

The other two laughed. "Anyway," Prussia continued. "Hungary's hotter than all other girls in town, and I'll be taking her out tonight."

"You haven't asked her out yet," Spain reminded him.

"Doesn't matter," Prussia said. He handed his rifle to France and lightly jogged to catch up with Hungary.

"Hello, Hungary," he said.

She looked up from her book and turned around to face him. "Oh, hello, Prussia." She continued walking and reading. Prussia snatched the book.

"Give that back, Prussia. Please?"

"What's so great about books?" Asked Prussia, flipping through it. "This looks lame." He shut the book, losing Hungary's place. Hungary scowled and reached for her book. He teasingly waved it above her head.

"Listen," he said. "How about you have dinner with me tonight? Say, eight o'clock?"

"No," Hungary said angrily, finally snatching her book back and holding it tightly against her. "I'm busy tonight." She turned around in a huff, walking quickly away. Prussia stared at her rear in a tense rage. Both arousal and anger swelled in him like an overinflated balloon. "That went well," Spain said sarcastically. Prussia hit him on the head again. A young woman passed by them, looking Prussia up and down. Still furious, Prussia took her by the hip and led her to the tavern, where he had rented the upper floor. "Leave me alone until tomorrow," he told the other two. The girl giggled as he led her up the stairs and slammed the door behind them. Intermittently throughout the night, the tavern ceiling rained dust down on the drinking men, accompanied by loud female moans and equally loud knocking on the floor above. Spain and France hung about the tavern, drinking and keeping people from entering the upstairs room to complain about the noise.


	2. Chapter 2

Prussia walked down the tavern steps the next morning, taking Spain by the collar in his left hand, and France by the collar in his right. Both were passed out. He dragged them out of the tavern and into an alley near Hungary's house. He slapped them both awake. "Ouch! What's that for?" Spain asked, turning on his stomach and holding his head. France massaged his temples. Prussia sat down on the ground in front of them. "Hungary turned me down yesterday," he said.

"We know," France said, still massaging.

"Look," Prussia said. "Maybe she was just mad that I swiped her book like that. I'm gonna try again." He stood up.

"If that's all you wanted, why did we have to come?" Asked Spain, barely audible as he lay face down.

"You're going to be a little distraction. When I leave, make yourselves look as rough as possible. You always carry your hunting knives; pull them out on me. Make it look as real as possible; switch shirts if you have to. When Hungary and I pass by, jump me, but let me win. I could impress her, you know? She could see how awesome I am."

France shrugged. "Alright," he said.

Prussia headed toward the door.

Inside, Hungary was in the middle of her favorite book, lost in the adventure when a knock at the door interrupted her. She carefully marked her place and went to the door. She opened it.

"Oh," she said. "Hello, Prussia."

"Hey," he said. "Listen, I know I kinda pissed you off the other day, so I was thinking I could take you out to dinner to make up for it."

Hungary hesitated. "No thanks."

Prussia was taken aback. "But... But... Why not?"

"I just don't want to, Prussia."

Prussia frowned. "I'm not asking for much; what's the big deal?"

"Goodbye, Prussia." Hungary closed the door, leaving Prussia on the porch.

Fuming, Prussia began walking back to the tavern. As he passed by an alley, suddenly two people jumped out, pulling at his clothes and throwing him to the ground. One man got on top of him and pulled out a knife.

"Get off me, Spain," Prussia ordered. "She's not here."

"Oops," said Spain, standing back up. Once Prussia was on his feet, he shoved Spain back down. Spain picked himself back up, but rather slowly, as his head was hurting. They made their way back to the tavern.

Back at the house, Hungary sat with her book in her lap, not quite able to start reading again. She shifted in he chair so that her legs hung over the armrest at the knee, and her lower back pressed into the other armrest. She thought about Prussia. Sure, he was good-looking, strong, influential, and a good hunter, but she didn't want him. She thought back to her youth, when he was so much nicer. Was it because he thought she was a boy? Was he this way to all women? She didn't know. She sighed, looking at the cover of her book. Why were men nothing like the the ones in books? No one was perfect, she knew that, but why were people like Prussia considered the closest to perfect? She sighed again.

"Hungary? Are you okay?" Liechtenstein asked, looking in the doorway."

Hungary smiled lightly. "I'm fine."

"Who was at the door?"

"Just Prussia."

"What did he want?"

Hungary hesitated again. "He wanted to ask me out."

Liechtenstein smiled. "What did you say?"

"I turned him down."

"I don't understand why he'd ask you; didn't you say something similar happened yesterday?" Liechtenstein walked in, sitting on the floor in front of the chair.

"Yeah. He doesn't seem to learn."

"So why'd he come back? He can have his pick of any of the other girls in town."

"I don't know; maybe stubbornness is a trait that all men have."

"Switzerland isn't all that stubborn," Liechtenstein said, trying to defend her brother. Hungary smiled a little more. "He's stubbornly indifferent."

Liechtenstein stood up. "I just wanted to see if you were okay. I have to go out to the woods and get more firewood and those wild strawberries Switzerland likes. Want to come with me?"

"No, thanks," Hungary said. "But be careful, okay? The woods are a bit foggy today."

"I'm always careful," she said, grabbing her jacket, basket, and a coil of rope. She strolled outside and into the forest. Hungary was right; it was foggy. Most of the wood she found on the ground was damp. Thankfully, she knew which trees were dead and which were still alive. She climbed up a live one which stood near a dead oak and began tearing off branches. She threw them on the ground, climbed down and tied the bundle in her rope.

"Maybe a bit more," she said, getting ready to climb back up. As she reached for a higher branch, he stepped ever so slightly wrong and slipped. She shrieked, getting scratched from twigs as she fell, and getting her hair snagged. She felt some of her hair being pulled out, and something smooth tickle her cheek and fall away. She lunged, holding tightly to a limb. Something felt wrong. She moved one hand to the left side of her head. "My-!" Was all she had time to cry before her grip gave way. She screamed again, and landed flat on her back. "Ow," she moaned, reaching for the back of her head. It was wet. She looked at her hand, covered in a sticky red fluid. She nearly panicked, but stopped when she took in her surroundings. Wild strawberries! They grew all over! Smiling, she picked one that she hadn't fallen on and tasted it. "Wow!" She said. They were delicious! Liechtenstein gathered as many as she could hold in her skirt and began looking around for her basket.

"That's odd," she said. "Where did it go?" The trees all looked the same. Liechtenstein realized she was lost. She turned her head rapidly, this way and that, but could see nothing but trees and fog. Tears began to brim in her eyes. How would she find her way home?

Back at the house, Hungary had heard Liechtenstein's shrieks. She hurriedly threw on her boots and coat, grabbing a flashlight and running out the door. "Liechtenstein?" She called. "LIECHTENSTEIN!" Her calls were answered only by an echo. "Liechtenstein...stein... stein..."

Hungary felt fear wrench at her heart. Shining the flashlight on the ground, she began to follow the tracks.


	3. Chapter 3

Hungary shivered under her jacket. The fog was thick and cold, not to mention it was the time of year when the last of the harvests were being brought in; winter was coming on fast. "LIECHTENSTEIN!" Hungary called again. "LIECHTEN- AH!" She tripped, landing in the mud, her knees and elbows now covered in dirt. She grimaced in disgust, and looked behind her to see what she'd tripped on: it was a pile of wood, tied round with rope. Hungary gasped. "LIECHTENSTEIN!" Her breath made steamy patterns in the air upon leaving her mouth. She pointed her flashlight at a nearby tree. It had dried mud all along the trunk, and Liechtenstein's basket had been carefully placed next to it. Hungary shined her flashlight up the tree, noticing broken branches still hanging off of the adjacent tree, which was dead. She walked between the two trees, whereupon she found a patch of wild strawberries. She pointed her light back at the ground and spotted something purple. "Liechtenstein's ribbon!" She cried, picking it up and putting it in her jacket pocket. There were crushed strawberries all around, but those that were crushed led away from the clearing, a path was made from the trampled fruit. Without hesitating, Hungary followed them. Even after the clearing was behind her, there were still foot prints made from juice. Hungary began to panic; the footprints were that of some kind of animal. Red streaks in the ground showed the animal might have been dragging something. Next to one streak, Hungary found a single strand of blonde hair. "Oh, no," she said, with a lump growing in her throat and eyes burning. She broke into a run and followed the tracks. "No! No! NO!" Still running, she squeezed her eyes shut against the cold wind and wiped the tears from them with her sleeve. It was at this point that her elbow connected with a metal gate, driving her fist into her eye, and she fell backward, grasping at her injured arm and sore eye, crying harder. She sat up, still clutching her elbow, and looked at the gate. Thanks to her running into it, the gate was wide open, and there were no tracks leading into it. Past the gate, a huge homestead stood in disrepair, overgrown with weeds with peeling paint and broken windows. Hungary ran up to the door, not knowing what to expect. She was about to turn back into the woods; what animal would bring their prey here? Until she noticed a red smear on the doorknob. She took hold of the knob, and, scared as she was, slowly opened the door. "Liechtenstein!" She whispered sharply, shining her flashlight around. She stopped. "What?" She muttered under her breath. She thought she heard something. She listened. "...older...other one...way too young."

Someone, somewhere in the distance, was whispering. Not wanting to be caught, Hungary began walking in the other direction. She looked around as she did. The poor house was in shambles. It would have been beautiful if the owner took care of it. She found herself in an armory, where antique suits of armor stood at attention. She hurried along as quietly as she could, feeling as though she were being watched. "Liechtenstein?" She whispered again. "Other one?" She heard a voice behind her say. Hungary gasped and whirled around. She looked to the left and to the right, but no one was there. The hallway made a sharp right turn, and there were doors all along the wall, with one door on the end. Hungary peered into each of the doors on her left and right, and each one seemed to have something to do with music. On had an organ and a piano, another contained guitars, violins, cellos and a harp, with all but the harp on a special stand. The next had flutes, clarinets, an oboe and other assorted wind instruments Hungary didn't recognize on shelves. Out of all the instruments she saw, she noticed that only the piano was shiny and pristine, as if someone had been taking special care of it and neglecting the others. Finally, she reached the closed door at the end of the hall. She opened it slowly, only to find that it creaked. No sound is worse than a squeaky door, especially if the one who opened it is trying to stay quiet. Hungary opened it just as far as she needed to, sliding herself tightly between the frame and the door to minimize the creak. Without shutting it, she turned around. In front of her eyes were steps that led underground, into a dark room. Hungary walked down them in a hurry, thankful that they were stone and didn't squeak. She reached the floor, and heard a cough in the distance. "Liechtenstein?" Another cough, but no response. Hungary turned in its direction, only to find a bundled mass beneath a brown blanket. The mass shivered, and Hungary approached it. She moved the blanket back ever so slightly. "Liechtenstein!" She whispered, hugging her. Liechtenstein's hair was sticky, but she did not appear to be bleeding. It was just the juice from the crushed wild strawberries. Hungary took the ribbon out of her pocket and tied it in Liechtenstein's hair. She moved her hand to the little girl's forehead. Poor Liechtenstein was burning up! Hungary took her own jacket off and wrapped it around her small friend. "I'm here," she whispered to the sleeping girl. "We're going to get out, we're going to get you home, it's going to be okay."

"You're not going anywhere," said a gruff voice behind her. Hungary shone her flashlight and turned around. Her eyes grew wide and her jaw dropped. Her flashlight clattered to the stone floor and she gripped Liechtenstein tighter. Before her stood an animal like she'd never seen before. It stood tall on two legs with thick, black fur like a bear, but the ears were larger than a bear's, and she'd never heard of a bear who could talk.

"Why are you trespassing?" The beast demanded.

"I was looking for my friend," Hungary said, voice shaking. "She's sick. Please, she needs help."

"Neither of you are going anywhere. If you leave, others will come. You'll tell them all about me."

"No! No, we won't. I promise. Just let us go and you can be alone again." The beast snarled and Hungary gripped her friend tighter.

"Believe me," she said.

"No," answered the beast. "What good is your promise?"

"But if you don't let us go, she'll get worse!" Hungary protested.

"What do I care? She shouldn't have been here anyway!" The beast turned to leave. Hungary grew angry. "You obviously care a little, or you wouldn't have given her a blanket!" The beast stopped, but didn't turn around. Hungary spoke again. "At least send her back. She's sick, so if she says anything at all about you, everyone will dismiss it as a fever dream and ignore it. They won't miss me. Just please, please, send her back to her home."

The beast let out a loud howl, making Hungary throw her hands to her ears. The blanket floated, holding Liechtenstein on top of it, as if someone were holding it by the corners. A pillow floated into the room and tucked itself under Liechtenstein's head. The blanket then folded itself around her. Hungary watched as Liechtenstein was carried away, swaddled in a blanket like a baby.

"As for you," the beast said, facing her. "You will stay here. Until your death."

Hungary nodded. The walls trembled, and there was a whispering sound. "Ugh," the beast muttered. "Come with me. We still have a room available."

"A room?" Hungary asked.

"Your death might come sooner if you stay in this basement. We don't want that."

"We? But-"

"Do you WANT to die down here?" The beast snapped.

"No."

"Then let's go."

And thus, Hungary was led to her bedroom.

"You'll find clothes in that wardrobe there," the beast said, pointing. "Just ask it for whatever kind of clothing you want. If it's not in there, the sewing machine will make it."

Hungary said nothing.

"You live here now," said the beast. "Explore if you want, but you are to take meals with me, and stay out of my room."

"Your room?" Hungary asked. "Why-?"

"If I catch you in my room, YOU GO BACK TO THE DUNGEON! IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?" As he yelled, his sharp teeth bared. Hungary stepped back in terror.

"I SAID, IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?"

It was too much. She was tired and hungry and scared. She fainted. As she fell forward, the beast caught her in his large paws, accidentally tearing her skirt with his claws. "Damn it," he muttered, angry at himself. He placed her on the bed and addressed the sewing machine and wardrobe.

"You, fit her with a nightgown, and you, mend her skirt." He slipped out the door, slamming it as he left, while the wardrobe and sewing machine did as they were told. Once Hungary was in nightclothes, the blanket unfolded from the bottom of the bed and covered her. In and out of wakefulness all night, Hungary dreamt about music, filling the air with a slow tune, sad, angry and loud at times, and with a fluttering in the higher notes that induced a state of quiet contentment.


	4. Chapter 4

Hungary woke up the next morning, although she was not sure whether it was late or early morning. She looked at her nightgown, then at her regular dress, laid at the foot of her bed. Her hands covered her body protectively. A horrid thought crossed her mind. "The beast..." She stammered. "Did...did he?"

"Of course not!" Said the wardrobe. Hungary jumped. "I dressed you in it." The wardrobe, crazy as it may sound, spoke in a voice sounding a bit like an elderly woman. "Er..." Hungary murmured. "Am I going crazy or did the wardrobe just speak?"

"You're fine; I spoke," the wardrobe said. "Now, how about changing out of that nightgown for breakfast?"

"But... But how?" Hungary asked.

"Why, dearie!" The wardrobe exclaimed. "I would think you'd know how to dress yourself!"

"No, no, I mean how are you talking? How did those blankets float Liechtenstein out like that? Liechtenstein! Where is Liechtenstein? Is she safe? Where am I?"

"Slow down, slow down. Your sweet little friend is safe, the blanket took good care of her."

"But how did it float? That's impossible!"

"If it were impossible, it wouldn't have happened," the wardrobe said. Hungary, eager to get out of the nightgown for fear it, too, would start talking, quickly changed back into her regular dress. She tied her hair back into her usual white bandana.

"Now, how about breakfast? The young master is waiting for you."

"Young master?" Hungary asked.

"You've met him," the wardrobe said.

"Was he that... That... Beast?"

"Yes, that was him."

"No! I'm not going to eat with him! What's the main course? Me? No way!"

"Oh, dearie! The young master isn't like that! If he wanted to eat you, wouldn't he have done so already?"

Hungary didn't know what to say. It occurred to her yet again that she was talking to a wardrobe.

"If you're going to stay here, you have to eat," said the wardrobe.

"Did I really promise to stay here forever?" Hungary asked.

"Yes, ma'am, you did."

She groaned and sat heavily on her bed. "I was hoping I dreamed that." There was a knock on the door, and a female voice rang from the other side. "Breakfast is ready!" It said.

Stunned, Hungary didn't move from the bed. Instead, she sat, staring at the door with a blank expression on her face. The wardrobe waved her face with its door. Hungary did not respond. "Oh, dear!" The wardrobe called to the voice outside. "She seems to be a bit shocked!"

The owner of the voice outside, a mop, swished back from the door. "The young master isn't going to be happy," she muttered.

Once the news had been broken to him, the beast tore through the hall toward Hungary's room, whereupon he flung the door open. Still she sat, staring into blank space. The beast wanted to yell, wanted so badly to take his anger out on the girl in front of him, but finally found himself saying nothing. Instead, he took a deep breath and a step back. What could he say when he knew the girl would not hear him? Besides, for the first time in his life, he didn't see the point of yelling. He looked at the wardrobe, which was shrunken in fear in the corner, then turned and walked out on all fours. The mop closed the door. Hungary sat staring at the door for over an hour, but the discomfort in her stomach finally moved her to snap out of it. Remembering her order to take meals with the beast, Hungary ignored the pains and laid down on the bed. She wouldn't eat until she absolutely had to. Another knock sounded at the door. Hungary turned away from the sound, trying to ignore it, and heard music instead. It had been playing since a few moments after the beast left, but she hadn't noticed it until now. The door opened, but Hungary listened intently to the music. She could tell it was being played on a piano, but didn't recognize the piece. The higher notes fluttered and made you want to jump into the air and take flight, while the lower notes made you want to fling yourself down and cry. Hungary turned around to find an end table with a platter on it, containing a bowl of hot cereal and mug of hot coffee, separate containers of cream and sugar on the side along with the silverware. Hungary ate slowly, not wanting to make much noise and interrupt the music. By the time the song was over, Hungary had finished eating. The end table stepped out, leaving Hungary alone with the wardrobe.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" It said. "The young master isn't all bad, you see. Oh, he gets angry fast enough, but, when he can't think of anything to holler about, he writes a new song. But I have to say, the songs are sweeter since you've come; they used to be so loud, with the lower, more menacing notes blasting around the house. It was as if the piano was yelling at us. The songs were angry before, but now they're more of a mix of happy and sad."

Hungary heard but didn't completely listen to what the wardrobe said. Instead, she slipped quietly out of her room, toward the hallway to the basement, where she'd seen the piano before. She had to pass by those creepy suits of armor again, but they weren't as bad in the daylight from the windows. The beast sat at his piano, his back to Hungary as she stood in the doorway, hoping he would play again. His fingers fluttered on a few high notes, going back and forth between the two. He sighed and relaxed on the bench. A woodpecker thumped his head against a tree outside, and the Beast turned his head toward the sound. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hungary and swiftly rose from the bench. Hungary, scared from the events she remembered of the night before, took a fearful step back. The Beast walked quickly towards her. Maybe a little too quickly. Without thinking, Hungary turned and ran away. The Beast followed, chasing her and gaining. He breathed in deep puffs, much like a bull. Hungary sprinted for all she was worth as the beast chased after her, panting quickly and wondering to herself why she'd even come looking for him. Lost in thought, and too focused on her muscles growing sore to notice, Hungary rounded a corner too sharply and tripped over a pedestal to one of the armor suits, sending its spear flying forward. Hungary continued to run, and the beast continued to chase. However, the Beast didn't see the falling spear until his scratched his front leg down the side, from shoulder to elbow. He howled in pain and bled on the once-beautiful carpet. Hungary ran up a flight of stairs. The Beast, although slower than before, set off chasing her again. Hungary looked down from the second floor to see the beast ascending the stairs. Hide, hide, she thought. She bumped into a door, and, without hesitating, flung it open and ran inside, slamming it shut. She hurriedly shoved a protesting chair under the doorknob and turned around, looking for something, anything, to hide in or under. What met her eyes was a complete mess, broken furniture and torn curtains and carpets, paintings on the wall so dusty that she could not see what they were of. Arbitrarily, she approached one, wiping off some dust with her hand. A slightly familiar pair of dark blue eyes greeted her from the cleaner portion of the painting. Just to the left of the eyes was a single lock of black hair. Rested on all she could see of the nose was a small metal band. The door banged. Hungary jumped and began looking again for a hiding place. She ran to the other end of the room, surprised to find that the torn curtains held a balcony behind them, and a rather large one at that. On the railing of the balcony sat a pair of rusting glasses. At that moment, the beast burst in. He moved ever closer to her, growling. Hungary took a step back, her breath clouding in front of her in the icy air. "Didn't I tell you to stay out of my room?" The Beast growled. Hungary shook with terror, the Beast's growling reminding her of a book she'd read, in which she'd imagined a demonic character speaking in the exact same way.

"Why did you enter my ROOM?" The Beast snarled.

"I- I was... I was scared and-and-and-" Hungary stammered, taking another step back, away from the Beast.

"Didn't I tell you NOT to come in here?" The Beast towered over Hungary, just a foot in front of her and several feet above. Gaping up, Hungary fearfully stepped backward yet again, forgetting temporarily that she was next to the edge of a second-floor balcony. This might not have been cause for alarm, but the walls of the first floor were high, and this balcony was close to forty or fifty feet up. Hungary's unfortunate step caused her to topple backward over the balcony rail. Hungary didn't even have time to scream. For a moment, the world was a flash of black fur and cold air and the rush of falling. The next, her wrist was being held by the huge paw of the Beast. Now Hungary screamed, because, even though he saved her from falling, his claws were hurting her wrists. The Beast quickly pulled her up, afraid that her blood might cause him to lose his grip. Once safely back on the balcony, Hungary applied pressure to the four scratches on her wrist. The Beast began licking at the wound on his front leg. Hungary looked up. "It'll get infected if you do that," she said.

"And just how do you know that?" The Beast remarked angrily.

"I read it in a book," Hungary said. "Can we get some hot water?"

As though it had been there the whole time, a kettle came floating in, along with two rags.

"We'll also need bandages," Hungary told the kettle. "I just spoke to a kettle," she thought. Hungary doused the rag with the hot water, careful to avoid burning her fingers. "Hold this to your cut," she said. The Beast growled, pulling his front leg away. She sighed. "Look," she said. She held the cloth to her own scratches and winced. "Yes, it hurts, but it cleans up the cut so it won't swell up. If you don't clean it now, it'll hurt even more later." A black bag floated in, and when Hungary opened it, she discovered bandages. She wrapped her arm in one, then took up the other rag and soaked it. "Give me your leg," she said to the Beast, who had begun to lick its leg again. Before he had the chance to pull it away, Hungary snatched his leg and held the rag tightly to it. The Beast roared in pain, and she tensed, but she held the rag to his leg. When she decided she'd cleaned it well enough, she wrapped it in a bandage. "Feel better?" Hungary asked through her terror. The Beast looked her in the eye for a moment, then turned away. "I'm fine. Just leave, please." Hungary squinted at the Beast's downcast eyes. She'd never seen any kind of animal with eyes that color; what kind of animal had blue eyes?

"If you don't mind me asking," Hungary began. "What kind of animal are you?"

The Beast looked at her. "Why do you ask?"

"You stand on your hind legs, your eyes are blue, and you can talk, so can your furniture. I've never heard of any animals that can talk, or that are as tall as you are, or have blue eyes. What are you?"

"You're asking me what I am because of my blue eyes?"

Hungary nodded and the Beast gave a growl that sounded a bit like a laugh. "I'm a Siberian husky mix," he said.

Hungary gave a smile and a little giggle in spite of herself. But, upon remembering he had asked her to leave, she stood up and began to walk out. She turned her head to her right, and, under another large, dusty painting, sat a cold fireplace, and a mantle empty with the exception of a vase, which contained a single flower. Hungary wondered why the flower was so out of place. Maybe it was because the beast didn't look like the sort who'd like flowers, maybe because it was the only touch of color in the room, which was gray with dust. Hungary looked closer. The flower, a rose, didn't have a speck if dust on it, and looked bright red and healthy, although it looked like one of its petals was about to fall off. Hungary wanted to ask about it, wanted to ask how the beast got a living rose in such cold weather, but decided against it. She turned and looked back through the torn curtains. The beast had his back to her, twiddling his fingers (well, the closest thing he had to fingers) as if pressing imaginary buttons or, Hungary thought, playing an imaginary piano. Not wanted to intrude a minute longer, Hungary walked quickly out of the room, careful not to make any noise on the scattered furniture. Just as she was about to leave, although she might have imagined it, she thought she heard a deep, rumbling sigh.


	5. Chapter 5

Hungary had been at the beast's house for three days. Each night, she stood just outside the door as the beast wrote and played songs on his piano. This was the highlight of every day, and the songs reminded her of books she'd read in which characters fell in love. They were happy-ish tunes that gave a stirring in her chest and made her feel like running outside and dancing in her bare feet, despite the snow that was appearing on the ground. All the while, something about the songs made her sad, too, but the sad was mixed with the joy in such a way that it made her that much more happy. During the day, she took up a broom, clippers, a hammer and paintbrushes and set about fixing up the crumbling house. She'd even consented to taking meals with the beast, and had made friends with the wardrobe, who was only too happy to give her outfits. If the wardrobe didn't have something specific she wanted, Hungary would sketch it and the sewing machine would joyfully create it for her. By doing this, Hungary had a new jacket which she used when she did work outside, such as shoveling snow off the walk, oiling the dreadfully squeaky gate, or washing windows. On the third day, as Hungary was washing windows, the beast happened to look through one. He saw her working and had the sewing machine fashion him a huge jacket, similar to a bathrobe but much warmer and with buttons. It was the first time he'd worn clothes in close to three years. The beast stopped in his tracks. It would be three years come rainy season, spring, which gave him about two and a half months. He pushed the thought from his mind and joined Hungary. Once outside, he tapped her on the shoulder.

"Ouch!" She said.

"Oops!" The beast cried, pulling his paw back. "Sorry."

Hungary felt like she'd received a large bee sting, but ignored it. She pulled out her garden clippers, the ones she was using to trim out-of control bushes and brambles, and reached for the beast's paw. When she took hold of it, she noticed the beast shuffling his hind feet a bit and he avoided looking at her. She smiled at this, and used her clippers to trim his claws, being careful not to cut into the quick. He gave her his other paw and examined his trimmed claws. "I haven't trimmed my nails in ages," he said.

"If you like, I can paint them, too," Hungary joked.

"Not funny," the beast said, unsuccessfully trying to keep himself from smiling. Hungary saw him trying not to smile, and it only made her grin bigger.

"Here," the beast said, once all of his nails were cut to a manageable length. He picked Hungary up around the waist with one paw and heaved her to his back. Doing so, she was able to reach the higher window panes of the first floor. The ladder watched from a distance. That night, Hungary pulled up a chair next to the beast's piano bench and listened to him play. This piece was her favorite by far. It was slow and had a dreamlike quality, with a rhythm like a heart beating a little faster than normal. If contentment had written a song, Hungary felt it would sound like this piece. She closed her eyes and listened, and soon fell asleep. The beast's thick fur combined with satin shirt he was wearing provided and comfortable and warm place to rest. Smiling, the beast finished the song and carried Hungary as gently as he could to her bedroom. He laid her on the bed and stepped back. She turned slightly toward him, lying on her left hip, hand under her pillow, with her right foot resting a few inches above her left ankle. He forced himself to look away from her and at the wardrobe. "Give her a nightgown," he said quietly. "Please."

"Yes, sir," the wardrobe replied in a whisper. The beast strolled out, closing the door quietly. Once Hungary was in her nightgown, she was laid back on the bed.

"Hm," she sighed once with a sleepy smile, and slept soundly all through the night.

Hungary woke up very early the next morning. It was still dark, but the sky farther in the east was tinged with the slightest hint of red. The wardrobe and sewing machine slept soundly. Hungary rested her head on her pillow, looking out the window. She thought of the beast and smiled involuntarily. "I don't know why I was ever afraid," she thought. "I've gotten to know him a bit, and he's really sweet. None of the men in town were like that. Maybe I've..." A horrible thought struck Hungary and her entire body froze with horror. "If they all knew," she thought, shaking. "If everyone in town knew what's going on in here... If they knew how I'm starting to feel... What would they say? This can't be normal! No, it isn't like that... It can't be. I'm technically his prisoner, I just have a loose rein, that's all. And the only reason I stay... The only reason I stay is because I... I promised! Yes, I promised to stay here. That's why I don't try to escape."

Thinking of town made Hungary shake with fright and shame. She pulled the covers over her head and lay back down, waiting to be called for breakfast.

Back in the town, in a little home just near the edge of the woods, Switzerland sat by his little sister's side, waiting for her fever to break. It was slow going, and he was growing anxious, but not about Liechtenstein being ill; where was Hungary? She hadn't been home in days, and he hadn't seen her since he found Liechtenstein curled up on his doorstep in a blanket he'd never seen before, burning with fever. As he placed another cool rag on her forehead, Liechtenstein muttered in her sleep. "Berries... Big... Brother... Beast." None of her sleep talking told Switzerland anything he didn't know. She'd come home with her back soaked with red juice and little red chunks, easily identifiable as wild strawberries. If he had to take a guess, she went out in the woods to pick the wild strawberries, one of his favorite fruits, before the snow got to the last of them. Poor girl. She only ever wanted him to be happy. As for this 'beast' she continued to murmur about, she supposed she was dreaming. Illnesses give crazy dreams, that he knew. But none of it explained where Hungary was. He had not asked anyone in town, but could hardly leave his sister's side. Once she was well, he'd go out.

Back in the town itself, news had spread that Hungary disappeared. No one had seen her in days, and Prussia was in a lather. He had not contacted the other girl since their last encounter, and he didn't even know her name, but when the other women found out about his night-long rendezvous with her, they tried even harder to get his attention. He'd had only one other encounter, with Ukraine, and the other nights were spent drinking until he passed out, which, as an experienced beer drinker, took him a very long time. It was around four in the morning, and Prussia had not slept, but remained in an armchair, beer in hand, staring at a roaring fire in the tavern. France was passed out at his feet, having been kicked there by Prussia, whom France had drunkenly kissed full on the mouth before passing out. Prussia had simply dragged his lips across his sleeve and kicked France to the floor. Only Spain remained awake beside him.

"Hey, hermano," Spain said quietly. "Why are you so down these days?"

"Hungary kinda disappeared, in case you still haven't noticed," Prussia said. "Kinda hard to ask a girl out if she's wiped from the face of the earth."

"Oh, come on, what's so great about her, anyway?" asked Spain. "You've got hoochies lined up around the block, and each one would be only too happy to go out with you."

Prussia chugged the rest of his beer. "That's just it," he said. "What's up with Hungary? All the girls in this down would jump for the chance to go out with me or down on me. Hungary was different. You get bored of groupies after a while, Spain. Hungary just had this air... This, 'you can't touch this' kind of attitude. And I dunno about you, Ssspain," he slurred, "but I think thasss the sssexssiesst thing (hic) ever."

Spain shrugged. Prussia continued. "I mean, everyone gets bored of the girls that jussst FOLLOW them around. There'ssss always that one, that one that doesn'. That's... Thasss always the hottest one. You get me?"

Spain shrugged again.

"An' you know wha'? Imma go to her house, righ' now, and Imma ask her out again." Prussia stood up, only to trip over France and fall on his face, unconscious.


	6. Chapter 6

Hungary continued the refurbishment of the beast's huge house, along with help from the beast himself and his multiple living-furniture servants. It seemed that when she turned to look at him, he was just looking away at something else. The snow had fallen heavily the night before, and they were patching up broken siding of the house in an attempt to conserve heat. The beast turned his back and Hungary ducked behind a corner to think.

"What am I doing?" She thought. She peered from around her corner to see the beast drop a nail in the snow and go digging for it. She smiled and turned back into the corner. "This isn't right; he isn't human. Is this what they call Be- be- be... something? Unnatural, people call it. And yet..." Hungary peered around again to see the beast looking up at the roof, which had released a load of snow directly onto his head. Hungary giggled. Despite every voice in her head telling her that something was wrong, that feeling this way was unnatural and immoral and quite possibly illegal, she couldn't help it; especially when she looked at his eyes. She knew she had seen that shade of blue somewhere, but where? And the beast had black fur. It was probably a coincidence, but why did the black fur and blue eyes combination strike her as familiar? She didn't know any other human, let alone animal, with black hair and blue eyes. And the more she thought about it, any rational person would have made an attempt to escape. After all, he'd hurt her wrist with his giant claws, but he HAD been trying to save her. But all the same; she was still technically a prisoner. Was it Stockholm syndrome? She thought about it. People with Stockholm syndrome sympathized with their captors, or even fell in love with them. Hungary's train of thought stopped on a dime. Fallen in love? Hungary thought that to sympathize with the beast, she would make excuses for him, at least, excuses for him to herself, as to why he'd held her captive. But he'd told her why, and it was because he didn't want to be discovered. Surely he'd seen by now that she was trustworthy, and might be having second thoughts about not letting her go, but to do so now would raise suspicion. People would wonder where she had been for so many days, and how Liechtenstein came back in a blanket. Even if she didn't tell the whole truth, there might be a risk of someone finding the beast. Hungary's heart sank at the thought of Prussia. A beast the size of this one could keep the town in meat for a month, and Prussia would be oh-so-proud of a new, thick fur coat. The thought made Hungary nearly sick with fear and sadness. She thought some more. Was it even possible that she didn't want to leave here? She had friends here, even if none of them were human. "Well," she rationalized. "I never got along with people anyway. Maybe a beast and talking furniture are good for me."

Hungary leaned heavily against the wall, which turned out to be a bad decision. She knocked loose a bunch of snow from the roof and it fell directly on top of her head, which was much smaller than the beast's head, knocking her out cold.

Meanwhile, in Hungary's shared little home, Switzerland found himself nodding off in a rocking chair in Liechtenstein's bedroom. She still slept soundly, only half-waking to eat, drink and use the restroom, but other than that sleeping. Switzerland had laid a hand on her forehead to find her sweating; a good sign. The fever would end soon. His lips turned up in a slight smile as he rested his head against the back of his chair and closed his eyes. She was going to be okay. Suddenly, Liechtenstein awoke with a shriek, snapping Switzerland back to his senses. "Liechtenstein!" He said, jumping from the chair. "Are you alright?"

Liechtenstein sat up. "Hungary! She came looking for me! I went out to the woods to find berries and firewood and I fell from a tree! When I came to, I was in this moldy basement and Hungary was there and this terrible beast was following her!"

"Liechtenstein," Switzerland said, trying to push her shoulders back to her bed. "You just had a bad dream."

"Prove it! Where is Hungary?"

"She's... Well, she's not here. She hasn't been home in days."

"Then she must still be there! Go into the woods, and between some trees there's a big clearing and a path behind that. We have to help her!" She had begun throwing off her blankets.

"You're not going anywhere," Switzerland said firmly, still trying to pin her down.

"But-" Liechtenstein began.

"If I go try to find her, will you promise to stay here? To stay in your bed and try to get more rest?"

She opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something, but eventually nodded.

"Good. I'll get you some water and bread, in case you get hungry or thirsty while I'm gone. The only thing I want you to leave that bed for is if you have to use the bathroom. Got it?"

She nodded again.

"Good." He left the room. After a fashion, he came back in, donned in his thickest jacket and with his rifle slung over his shoulder.

Prussia, in the meantime, was angrier than ever. Sober as a judge, he grabbed Spain and France hard by their collars and pulled them to a tavern corner.

"Listen up," he said. "We're going to Hungary's place right now, and if she's not there, we're going to sit as wait for her until she comes back, no matter how long it takes."

Having never seen Prussia in a state like this, Spain and France agreed. They dressed for the cold and took off toward Hungary's house, arriving just in time to see Switzerland walk out the door, armed with his rifle. Prussia looked over at the other two.

"Look through the house," he told them. "See if she's there. If not, see it she left a note or something. I'll tail Switzerland."

They nodded and Prussia took off, walking in Switzerland's footsteps and stepping as quietly as he could through the snow. Being an experienced hunter, Prussia could be quiet when he absolutely needed to. Switzerland didn't even turn to look at him. All the same, Prussia ducked behind trees whenever he could. Switzerland stopped and Prussia shot quickly and quietly behind a tree, peering out at Switzerland. Switzerland turned to his left and looked between two trees. He stepped between them, and Prussia followed, ducking behind the trees and dormant bushes surrounding the clearing rather than stepping in the clearing behind Switzerland. It seemed Switzerland discovered a path. Holding his rifle out in front of him, he cautiously followed it. Prussia, of course, stayed close behind, not letting himself be seen.

At the little house, France and Spain were receiving information from a scared, and still sick Liechtenstein.

"It was a big horrible beast," she was saying. The two didn't believe a word of it, but went to catch up to Prussia and tell them they hadn't found anything. They tore out of the house in a run, following Switzerland's tracks.

Meanwhile, the beast rounded the corner of his home. "Hungary?" he said, looking around it. "It's getting cold, how about- Hungary?" He looked down, there sat a pile of snow with limbs sticking out. Nearly mad with fear, the beast began to rapidly unearth Hungary from her heavy, freezing prison, not knowing that Switzerland and Prussia had just seen his front gates, and that Spain and France were only a few yards behind them. Holding her close to him, he felt that she was freezing, and still knocked out. He picked her up and headed to the front door.

Spain and France had caught up to Switzerland and Prussia, just in time for all four of them to see a giant, black haired behemoth clutching to Hungary, who had her eyes shut, and was limp and pale.


	7. Chapter 7

Switzerland didn't hesitate to raise his gun to his shoulder and shoot at the beast, although, as was his custom, he missed. The beast looked toward Switzerland and squinted.

"HUNGARY!" Thundered Prussia.

The beast held her tighter. Prussia ran toward him, Spain and France right behind, even though they were still tired from running all that way already. Switzerland hung back for just a moment, deciding what to do, then took off after them as the beast disappeared in the house. Prussia ran with adrenaline-fueled hatred, eyes flashing with the anger of a madman as he thumped his leather boots into the floor in pursuit of the beast. Spain and France were unable to catch up, and had lost him in the winding hallways. Prussia tripped over a pedestal to a suit of armor as he rounded a corner. He caught the spear as it fell, clutching it tightly in his fist as he took off running again, as fast as before. Still, his stumble had lost him time, and he could no longer see the beast. This known to him, he began creeping silently through the hall, looking into each and every door, trying to catch a glimpse. In the meantime, the beast had Hungary in his room, in front of a fire and under a blanket. He looked toward a chair. "Block the door," he told it, as it obeyed. He felt Hungary's cheek, which, though still cold, was warming up, and Hungary stirred slightly. BANG! Someone on the other side was hitting the door. BANG! The chair looked like it could not hold much longer. BANG! CRACK! The door was broken, kicked down by Prussia, who locked eyes with the beast, standing with his back to a fire and an armchair to his right. Prussia heaved the spear and the beast ducked just in time. There was a loud pop, and the beast turned around. The rose! The spear had hit the vase and broke it, and now there was only a single petal attached to the rose. The beast almost had time to let out a gasp before Prussia ran at him with a fireplace poker. The beast tore the poker from Prussia's hand and bent it in two, flinging it off the balcony. He grabbed Prussia by the back of the collar, but Prussia was quick. He kicked the beast in the face, then scrambled to his shoulders, straddling his neck and trying to strangle him. Unbeknownst to both of them, Hungary pointed at them in half a state of wakefulness. Teeth chattering and hand shaking, she was only able to form one word. "Skillet." Seemingly out of nowhere, a frying pan flew in and with a satisfying CLANG! Drove itself into the back of Prussia's head. He stayed rigid for a single second before going limp and slipping off the beast's shoulders. The beast clutched its throat and dragged itself over to Hungary.

"Hungary," he wheezed, casting a quick glance toward the rose and then back at her. "This is very important. Please, tell me how you feel about me."

"W-w-what?" Hungary stammered.

"Please. You have to. At least tell me you think I'm a good friend. Please."

Hungary sighed and pulled the blanket tighter over her. She looked at the fire and whispered, "You're so much more than a friend to me."

The beast smiled. "I feel that way, too," he said, and slumped to the floor. When he did so, the skillet that was floating also dropped to the ground. The chair seemed to go rigid, and it looked like the beast was twitching and shrinking. Hungary watched silently as the beast's black fur all fell out, with the exception of the hair on his head, his eyes molded shape to look like a human's, and his claws shrank into nails. Suddenly, the beast was a man. The man was breathing heavily, gasping for air as if he had come up from being underwater for a long time. Slowly, he stood up, and his pants fell down. His shirt, however, was long enough to keep all but a portion of his chest covered. Now less conflicted, Hungary stared and blushed. He turned toward her, and she remembered the dirty portrait she'd seen; this was the man in the portrait; the dark-haired, blue-eyed man. "From now on," he said, in a voice unchanged except the growl was gone. "You can call me Austria."

Hungary tried out the new name. "Austria."

Austria smiled and walked closer to her chair, where he fell to his knees and rested one hand on her arm, the other on her hand. Hungary blushed like crazy. "I think I should explain," he said. He told her a story of a spoiled young man, who was turned into a beast and taught a lesson. "Thank you, Hungary," he said when he'd finished. "You saved me from being hideous all my life."

Hungary could hardly believe this man could have ever been hideous, but she had seen it happen. Austria gently lifted her from the armchair, sat down, and held part of her on his lap, the other part resting against his chest with her head on his shoulder. The blanket was pulled over both of them. "I had a fur coat for so long I almost forgot what being cold was like," he said with a smile. He looked at Hungary, who looked tired, but happy. She curled up against him, resting on hand on his other shoulder. He grunted.

"You okay?" She asked.

"You're freezing," he said with a chuckle. She looked him in the eye and smiled. Austria, thinking to himself, "now or never," pulled Hungary in and kissed her, not even minding her frigid lips. A groan sounded from a few feet away, and they both looked toward it. Prussia stood up and turned around, facing Hungary and Austria. Still dazed, he stepped close to them, and Hungary grabbed him by the jacket. Austria watched with admiration as she whispered in Prussia's ear. His eyes grew very wide, and when she released him, he took three steps back and ran out the door. Switzerland stepped inside, and saw Austria and Hungary in the armchair.

"Austria?" He said.

"Switzerland! I thought that was you. Who else would miss at that distance?"

"What happened?" Switzerland said. "I haven't seen you in almost three years, and you seem, well, different from the, no offense, douchebag you used to be."

"No offense taken," Austria said, wrapping an arm around Hungary. "But what happened is a long story. And I think you should get back to your sister."

Switzerland nodded and left the room, glancing over his shoulder at his friends before leaving. Too busy staring at each other, they didn't notice. With a little smile on his face, Switzerland went home.

Epilogue

Hungary woke up facing her window, taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of her sleeping husband's arms holding her close. The house had been fixed completely with the help of the town, who were happy to see that Hungary was safe. The repairs and cleaning took a year before their completion, and, to celebrate everything, Austria and Hungary were married. Seychelles joked with the other girls, saying it was a "shotgun" wedding, as Switzerland looked ready to shoot Prussia, France and Spain if they tried anything. Prussia didn't look like he wanted to be there, and no one knew why he was even invited, but he and the others behaved themselves, not talking much and leaving rather early. After Austria changed back, all of the furniture went back to being furniture. Hungary missed talking to the wardrobe, and Austria needed new clothes, but Hungary knew how to sew. She turned over, trying not to wake up Austria, and looked at him. He wasn't one to mutter in his sleep, but he would hum. Sometimes it was a piece he wrote, other times Hungary could recognize songs by Beethoven. He hummed lazily in his sleep ad Hungary curled up even closer to him. She no longer felt conflicted, no longer feared that her feelings were unnatural. What could be more natural than this? She played gently with a strand of hair Austria could never quite seem to manage, tickling his eyebrow with it, making his face scrunch up cutely. She giggled and kissed his chin as he continued to hum. She sighed, deciding that five more minutes sleep wouldn't hurt, and dozed off in Austria's arms to the tune of his sleepy compositions.


End file.
